Eternal
by Saramis Kismet
Summary: She was ready to fall, he was trapped at the bottom. She needed a little luck, he needed something worth fighting for. One deep promise will keep them together through everything. An unusual pairing, and yet a canon...
1. Vision in Darkness

**Eternal **

_**Author's Notes:** Here it is, my second story. Very different from my last one: A. it has no ghosts and B. it has nothing to do with Danny. I don't look forward to this one being very long... six chapters, possibly. It's just a break until I write the prequel to Cold As Ice. Those of you waiting for it after that "open ending", I'm very sorry. This was itching my fingers, okay? The genre is mostly romance and angst. **This chapter contains domestic abuse and suicide; read at your own discretion. If anyone thinks I should up the rating, let me know.**_

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own the two main characters in this story. Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, etc own them. The idea is solely mine. This disclaimer goes forth to all chapters._

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**Vision in Darkness**

You know the type. They're those people who seem to just be natural born outcasts. No one really makes fun of them, or rejects them, or ever gave them much reason to be loners. No one really knows anything about them, other than what you can perceive from what you see of them everyday. Those lacking in social skills usually fall beyond your peripheral vision, too small for the normal human eye to catch, but there's always the one that attracts your eye without ever seeming to pay any mind at all to you. Aren't they supposed to be the overlooked ones, anyway?

This unique brand of teenager exists in all environments, including the class of 1991 at Casper High School.

She was the kind of person who lurked in the back, more out of distaste for those around her than for shyness. She was the kind of person that everyone expected had a screwed up life, who had no ambition to achieve anything, and put no effort into whatever someone else expected her to do. The sort of girl who smoked cigarettes beneath the bleachers at the football stadium by herself and flicked the burnt ends at the feet of those who were watching the game; who went anywhere with anyone who asked just to make people angry; who wore cheap, thrift store clothing, dirty and torn, and tried to pass it off as individuality even though everyone knew it was just because she didn't have any money.

She would disappear during the lunch hour at school, unnoticed by most, uncared for by more, other than the occasional joke of, "I wonder where Black Kat ran off to _this_ time."

A few people admitted that maybe she'd look half decent if she took better care of her appearance. Some boys even thought her unkempt style was alluring. They just held back from approaching her with their thoughts, afraid they'd contract a disease by breathing the same air as her. It wasn't meant to be cruel; it was just how everyone saw her.

And for the most part, everyone saw Katherine Riley with absolute clarity.

She didn't make an attempt to stand up to the rumors or the gossip. It wasn't like they were lies, most of the time. She didn't work hard in school. Why bother? She didn't have any money to get into college, and it wasn't like anyone expected her to. For the most part, school was just a place for her to run to. No one wanted to hassle her there anymore, after three years of_ nice_ classmates and _concerned_ counselors and vice-principals trying to find the source of her problem.

Did they expect her to take them seriously when all they wanted her to do was to feel like life was the Breakfast Club?

_I wonder how those people got a master's degree_, she thought as she painted an extra coat of dark red nail polish over her longer fingernails. She shook the hand underneath the desk so that it would dry quickly without her government teacher noticing. Ha. As though his poor eyesight could locate her in the back corner behind the end of the bookshelf.

She rested her forehead against the desk and played the new Nirvana song over in her head, ticking off the minutes until the final bell rang and she could end this day. The familiar shrill siren of freedom she'd come to adore sounded throughout the room. She slowly rose from her desk to gather her things, and then bolted through the door without another word spoken.

The hallways quickly filled to capacity with loud, laughing, and running teenagers. Somehow, Katherine was able to cut through the masses without touching a single one. An invisible dome of sorts seemed to surround her body as she made her way to her small locker near the center of the corridor, next to the staircases that led to the first floor.

Opening her locker revealed a nearly empty space, only containing a green messenger bag and a wool scarf that hung from a hook in the back. The inner wall of the door was covered by several pictures of artists from her time, a drawing, and a sticker with a witty, sarcastic phrase. There was nothing special within.

She reached in and wrapped the scarf around her neck and shoulders, adding more warmth to the red leather jacket she wore already. It was November, and she was already dreading the even colder days that she would have to bear through in weeks to come. Perhaps this was her punishment for usually choosing to wear little clothing over her legs and stomach.

Whatever the case, by the time she finally removed herself from her mind and closed her locker, the halls were nearly cleared out. She was pretty much the only person left in the hallway. A small smile appeared stealthily on her face, and though smiles weren't necessarily uncommon with her, they were hardly seen by the public.

To her, mystery was an admirable attribute in anyone. That, as well as loyalty, trust, imagination. Seeing as she was probably one of the few people she knew of with any of these qualities, she purposely kept her circle small in size. Dots count as circles, don't they?

When she reached the ground floor and walked through the glass doors, she found herself amongst the aftermath of a brief rainstorm that must have happened while she was in her final period. She smirked and walked out into the damp air, feeling a little more comfortable than she would have in the dry cold.

It would take her ten minutes to get to her lovely home from the schoolyard. Sneaking a small white box from her bag, she took out a thin white stick and placed it in her lips. She hadn't left school grounds yet, but what the heck? She whipped out a pack of matches from the pocket of her jacket and struck one, watching the flame dance as it lit the end of her cigarette. She inhaled and suddenly felt much warmer.

She passed the park on her way to her house. It was rather big, but it didn't boast much; just a path through some trees, a bench here or there, and a small playground. It was a fairly new area. She sighed contentedly. It smelled lush after the rain. It almost seemed romantic.

Excuse me? She shook the thoughts from her mind. As if. But the thoughts remained with her, unable to be dismissed from her secretly hopelessly romantic mind. Just like a movie, she could see a life entirely changed by some sort of event that might happen there. Whatever god there was knew

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Katherine paused in the doorway, her eyes wide in fear, not surprised at the scene in front of her.

Her six-year-old sister, Hannah, was sobbing under the coffee table, curled into a fetal position. Her back was to Katherine, but she knew that her eyes were shut tight and she was trying to distract herself with a song. That's what she'd told her to do whenever their father behaved like this. Her mother was stretched out on the couch, glaring through a few stray tears at the burly man standing above her. There were bruises on her arms and his hands were fists.

Her father set his wild-eyed, drunken gaze on Katherine. She closed the door slowly behind her and grasped the door handle, feeling like an alley cat under the eyes of a rabid dog.

"Had fun last night, didn't ya?" he slurred, grinning humorlessly. "You little slut."

Katherine inhaled and puffed out her chest, glaring defiantly. He reached to the table and Hannah retracted from him. Instead of striking at her, he lifted up a wad of money and held it out to her. "Not satisfied with the money I make," he growled, "or do you enjoy being the worthless skank I always knew you'd be." He made his way toward her, her mother screaming at him and Hannah humming louder to cover her own shrieks.

Her head bounced against the door as a hand came across the side of her head. Her long brown hair flew into her mouth and she groaned in pain, her ears ringing. She held her head and began to slide down. Another blow hit her in her unprotected stomach and she staggered back into the door.

"I thought I'd raised a decent family," he boomed at everyone in the room. "You're damned mother tried to hide it from me. Deceiving little piece of shits, all of you. You think your sister wants a big sister who flaunts herself downtown, crawling into cars with rich old men with nothing better to do?"

He slammed Katherine against the wall again. She bit her tongue and tasted blood in her mouth. "Don't touch me!" she yelled.

"Why not, bitch?" he yelled, pinning her arms to the wall and one leg with his knee. He smiled maliciously. "You let everyone else. Why shouldn't I touch my own flesh and blood, eh? See what all the fuss is about." He let go of one arm and reached down...

Katherine screamed and pushed him away. She bolted for the door, sprinting away into the wet afternoon, away from the hellhole she was forced to call home. She ran and ran as though a ghost were chasing her.

She approached the shining silver gates of salvation: the park. She wrapped her hands around the bars and pushed them open, something inside of her compelling her to run as fast as she could to whatever ends. The running made her already pounding head feel ready to explode. Not to mention the loud roar of cars and motorcycles in her ears.

In the distance she saw people hanging around the playground. No way did she want to stand in public after that. She strayed off to another path and ran through a thick trail of bushes and trees.

She reached the place where the bath opened up. A wooden bridge was erected over what looked like a long, not very shallow, creek. The recent rain had filled it with water splashing against the rocks in its way.

There was no future in her sight. Her grades were tanked, the only job she had was one she hated with a passion and the one her alcoholic father had just tried to turn against her. She grabbed her jacket and closed it tight around her, shutting her eyes tightly. She never liked it. The first time she'd ever done it was because it was late, she was drunk, and her father had kicked her out because he found a pack of cigarettes. She was just standing there and someone thought she was working... she needed money. She didn't think twice.

The only place she could go back to was a house she was now terrified of. Her mother and sister had been left there to his mercy. What a hypocrite, getting on to her for smoking when he'd done it since he was her age. There was no way she would ever, ever return to that house, though. Only if she could save Hannah, but she couldn't.

She couldn't.

She was just a stray, black kitten, full of bad luck and bringing it to everyone else...

Without thinking twice, she stepped onto the bridge and heard it creak beneath her weight. Maybe she wouldn't die, but she'd be hurt. Maybe too hurt to stand and walk away, and she'd die there in the cold creek.

She pulled herself onto the rail and squatted, ready to stand and let gravity do its work...

Something wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. She toppled backward and landed on a warm body, blowing the air out of its chest. Two hands held her arms and lifted her paralyzed body way, turning her to face him.

"Now what the hell do you think you were doing?"

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_Author's Note: Spent a few days trying to figure out how to do the last half. I think it came out pretty okay. Don't worry, that's the... um, second darkest scene in the whole story. Kay? Hope you stick around._

_Saramis Kismet_


	2. Superstition

**Eternal **

_Author's Notes: A hearty thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Hope you all enjoy this part as well. If you have any comments, good or bad, I'd like to hear them, so please review. Sorry, Broken, but I said at the beginning on the last chapter that Danny wasn't in this story. Let's continue, now.

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**Superstition**

Katherine found herself looking into two distressed gray eyes, hardly visible through the mess of blond hair sitting on the man's head. These were the only feature she took in before realizing what he had done. A defiant anger coursed through her and her adrenaline set her mind on one goal. She looked down and found herself sitting between his legs. She shoved one of them away and rolled over to his other side.

"Mind your own business," she snapped. "Get out of my way. I'm busy." She stood up and walked to the wooden railing again, propping one foot up and preparing to stand again.

"In that case, can I make a suggestion?" said the blond boy behind her.

A sudden surge of annoyance went through her as she stared back down at the water beneath her. Why wouldn't this jerk go away, huh? She already told him to leave her to her privacy. Nor did she need someone trying to be heroic at her expense again.

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her around the waist and roughly pulled her from the rail. "Most people, when they commit suicide, slit their wrists or something along those lines. You probably don't even have a decent note written."

Kat flailed her legs out and hit his arms erratically. She struggled enough to where he let her fall out of his arms. Twisting around, she yelled, "What's your problem? Why on God's forsaken earth to you give a damn what I do? I don't even know you, so just leave me alone!" She turned back to the side of the bridge but felt her arm caught around the wrist by his hands. Now she was getting anxious. She faced the boy again and sent him a murderous look through her brown bangs.

If only looks really could kill. Both of them would be dead where they stood by the stare the stranger was giving her.

"No dice, babe," he said, his voice incredibly serious. "I'm not letting a pretty face like yours go six feet under."

A nerve was struck by his words. She yanked her wrist back but it wouldn't budge from his grasp. "Do not," she hissed, grunting while trying to pull free, "call me babe."

The boy held up his hands and took a step back. Suddenly, Katherine was confused. "Fine, I'll back off," he said. "It's not the best of ideas, even if you are crazy. But if you really want to go through with it… well, like I said, I'd hate to see a girl as pretty as you in a casket."

The words she was going to say in retaliation caught in her throat. She stared at him, feeling very lost, and mouthed wordlessly. After all that trouble he went through, holding her back forcefully from jumping, he was just going to quit? What was he on? Whatever it was she thought he should probably stop.

He turned around to leave, Katherine standing there dumbfounded. She glanced behind her at the water beneath her. The waves were churning a lot… and she out of the blue she remembered her fear of heights. Hah. Like a small fear like that could overwhelm her now. The only thing really keeping her back from breaking all ties with the screwed up life she led was –

"Who are you?" The words were out of her mouth before she even processed the question in her mind.

The boy turned around, his heavy black coat blowing slightly in the breeze. For the first time Katherine paid attention to his appearance. His blond hair reached down to his chin and he should've shaved two days ago. He was pale, wearing mostly black except for his white shirt. A green necklace hung from his neck and beyond the cuffs of his coat she saw a ring on each hand.

"I thought you were busy," he said, smirking in… what was that? Triumph?

Katherine crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Answer my question."

"My name's Johnny," he said. "Or, as most people say, my name's Thirteen."

Again, his words plucked at something familiar in her mind. She cocked her head curiously. "Why do they call you _that_?" she asked.

He shrugged as though they were having friendly small talk. "Not sure, really. I think I'm supposed to have a claim to fame of being a klutz.

Kat gave another look out towards the creek. She was awfully uncomfortable now. It wasn't like she wanted to jump right in front of this guy. Thirteen. Johnny, whatever his name was. That wasn't the point. It seemed, though, that the longer he stalled her, the less perfect the idea seemed.

She wasn't sure whether to put him on the 'hate' or 'allow to live' list.

"So, what about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" she snapped, not looking away from below.

"Your name," he reminded her. He took a few steps forward and stood next to her at a safe distance. "What is it?"

"Oh. Katherine. Black Kat is what people call me."

He laughed. It really didn't fit the scene they were in. "That's ironic, isn't it?" Katherine shrugged, and a silence settled upon them. She looked sideways at him but he wasn't making any signs of leaving her be.

"I guess," she whispered.

Johnny coughed. "So, what happened to make you want to… you know."

The surge of annoyance advanced on her again, and she rolled her eyes. "Nothing you need to know about," she grumbled.

"Doesn't matter," he said. He smiled slightly and put his hand next to hers on the rail. "You could use someone to talk to."

Kat surveyed him, considering. He had stopped her from doing the necessary. He probably thought he had good intentions, though. What was that in his gray eyes? Something she hadn't seen in anyone's while they were looking at her. Sincerity.

She sighed and pulled her jacket tighter around her. "Family. School. Life in general," she explained. "When it gets that bad there's not much you can do."

Johnny didn't say anything. He waited for her to continue.

She sifted uncomfortably, but the words were pushing to escape her lips. "I don't have the best job in the world, either. It's probably amongst the lowest, if not the worst." Her life felt like it was spewing from her mouth now. "My dad's a drunk, my mom's too scared of him to do anything, and my little sister's growing up in a hellhole. So did I, but hey, too late for me." The tone of apathy she was trying to create cracked, and she scorned herself for not the first time that evening.

"It almost was," said Johnny. He leaned over and lifted the bag that Katherine had dropped. "Good thing that it wasn't, though. Here." He lifted the bag up by the strap to hand it to her just as a strong gust of wind came from behind them. One of the pockets opened and a wad of money flew out and settled on the surface of the water. Johnny reached out to catch it but it was already going downstream.

"Crap!" he yelled, dropping the bag and leaning over the rail. He hit his forehead with his fist. "Idiot, idiot, idiot. I'm so sorry. Man, how much was that? I'm so sorry!" He continued whispering curses at himself before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Kat smiled softly up at him. Leaving her hand there, she looked after the fallen money and smiled wider. "It's better at the bottom of the ocean than in my hands," she said mysteriously, picking up the fallen bag.

Johnny raised his brow curiously, though he was relieved that she wasn't as hostile as she had been earlier. "That looked like about two hundred bucks, girl," he pointed out.

"Five hundred," she corrected. She spit into the water. "But I don't care about it. I hate how I got it anyway."

Hesitating before pushing further, he asked, "How did you get it?"

The strange smile on her face landed on him, secretive, morbid and telling all at once. "Street corners."

"Oh."

Once again, the two were silent.

"Is that why you didn't like it when I said…" Before Johnny finished, she nodded. He laid his eyes on her thoughtfully. Her entire personality had seemed to change right before his eyes. She seemed so much calmer now. It was…. well, it interested him. That wasn't usually the effect that dropping half a thousand dollars had on people was it? Then again…

"How the heck did you even find me here?" Katherine's words interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. "No one saw me come down this way, and no one ever goes on this trail anyway."

Blinking in surprise at her question, Johnny considered how he should answer it without making himself sound stupid in front of her. "I was just, you know," he explained, "driving down the road when I saw you run into the park. Well… I don't know, for some reason I stopped and followed you in. I guess I just figured that something was wrong…"

Katherine drummed her fingers on the rail. She turned sharply and began to walk across the bridge to the other side. Johnny stared after her for a moment, shocked by her unexpected leave, before coming to.

"Where are you going?" he called, stepping after her retreating form.

"Not staying there," she answered shortly. "I don't know, I just couldn't…." She stopped once she reached the bank and shivered slightly. This time, it wasn't the cold that caused this. It was that something had occurred to her once she had moved from her would-be death scene.

Something heavy rested on her shoulders from behind. A thick black material encompassed her. Looking over her shoulder she saw a concerned, bare-armed Johnny. "Aren't you cold?" she asked.

He shrugged in response. "I like this weather, actually. Besides, it's starting to get dark." For the first time Kat noticed that the sun had nearly sunk beneath the horizon. All the shadows from the tree cover had kept her from realizing the time. Had she only run from her house less than an hour ago?

"So, I take it Black Kat's not exactly a term of endearment either," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. The gesture made her want to take a step back but she didn't.

"Not exactly," she replied. "Then again there aren't many people who would choose to give me a term of endearment other than their bitch…" Talking about her job, more than anything else, was unsettling. She didn't bother to check Johnny for a reaction. "It's just a nickname the idiots at school gave me. So, no, since no one really cares, it's not."

"Maybe they just haven't been given a good enough chance to care," Johnny said softly. It sounded like it was more to himself than it was to comfort her, and she noticed.

Her breath caught in her throat and she turned away from him, staring intently at nothing in particular. Pursing her lips, she finally asked, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen. Why?"

No matter how much she wanted to ask a part of her squirmed inside. It didn't seem right. Plus, she had no real reason to believe she could do it safely. Then again, there was no reason why she shouldn't, and every reason to not do the alternative. With an air of confidence masking her skepticism she asked, "You wouldn't happen to have your own place, would you?"

Johnny's jaw set and his widened eyes landed on the top of her head. His reaction softened when the context behind her request struck him. "It's that bad, huh?" he asked. She nodded silently. "I do. But trust me, it's not the best of places. You might do better not going there."

"Anywhere's better than there," she retorted.

It wasn't like he was going to say no to her, not after what she almost did to keep away from whatever it was that had set her running. He wasn't going to leave her to the chance to finish the job, despite his doubts that she would. It was simply bizarre of her to ask to go home with a complete stranger. Now that he thought about it, though, it probably wasn't, but in this way it probably was. "If you don't mind, could you tell me why a place like mine will be better right now?"

She laughed cynically. "My dad found my stash of money. Even in a drunken rage he could put two and two together…." She left out the part about what he had done after yelling at her for it. As far as she was concerned, she'd already said enough.

"Maybe we should leave, then," Johnny finally said.

Katherine smiled. Of course, she knew this probably wouldn't be a permanent set-up. She wasn't looking too far into the future, anyway. It was fine that for one night she wouldn't have to sleep under the same roof as that horrible man.

She shrugged off the heavy black coat he'd given her and handed it back to him. "I'm fine, don't worry," she said as he took it and wrapped it around himself again. The two strangers turned and walked back across the rickety bridge towards the main trail again.

Johnny couldn't take his eyes off of her for some reason.

"So, since I can't call you babe," Johnny said as the neared the other side, "and I don't want to call you Black Kat, and Katherine's too long, what should I call you?"

Smirking as she stepped on to the other bank, she considered for a moment. A memory of her thoughts before preparing to fall crossed her mind. Finally, she said, "Something along the lines of Kitten will do." Although, she admitted wordlessly, maybe babe wouldn't be a terrible name.

"I like that." As Johnny stepped away from the bridge, his boot hit the end of one of the sections holding the entire structure up. Jumping away at the last moment, the end nearest them collapsed and chunks of wood began to fall into the creek. The rest of the bridge soon followed suit, debris falling into the water. The two stood there staring as the entire thing was destroyed.

Sighing, Johnny turned around and rubbed his temples. "Well, it doesn't look like anyone else will be ending her life there," he grumbled bitterly. "At least my nickname suits me, doesn't it?"

Kitten looked closely at him as they emerged from the grove and walked underneath the sparsely starlit sky to the street. Somehow, she thought, she didn't agree.

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_Author's Note: Took about all day to finish this one. But I just have to get it there! Next update will be for Never Good Enough, and expect this story's next update to come in a week or so if we're lucky. Remember, keep your local authors happy: feed them sufficient amounts of healthy reviews!_

_Saramis Kismet_


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